


Little Bee

by MathConcepts



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alll those years with Warlock paid off, Baby Beelzebub (Good Omens), Baby!Beezlebub, Beelzebub bites everyones ankles, Beelzebub's Fly (Good Omens), But it wasn't coming out right, Clingy Beelzebub, Crowley and Aziraphale get to be totally incompent uncles, F/M, Gabriel thinks a cat carrier is a carseat, I wanted to do a GabrielxBeelzubub baby fic, M/M, Other, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Protective Gabriel, They/Them Pronouns for Beelzebub (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-08-19 22:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20217463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathConcepts/pseuds/MathConcepts
Summary: Gabriel shows up in the bookshop one day, with a baby that looks very, very familiar, and not in a good way. Aziraphale and Crowley find themselves saddled with the difficult task of caring for a child that has a hellish temper, a penchant for murder, and an overbearing fondness for Gabriel.





	1. Baby

  
Dinner in celebration of the three-week anniversary of the Apocalypse-that-wasn't had been top-notch. The knowledge that three bottles of some ancient wine was awaiting them back at the bookshop was even better. Crowley had planned to saunter on in and go straight for those bottles, with Aziraphale close behind. What he had not planned for, however, was to walk into the bookshop and come face to face with Gabriel.   
  
Crowley was in front of Aziraphale in an instant, shielding him with his thin frame. _"Oh dear."_ Crowley heard the angel mutter. Whether that was exclamation of fondness, or one of concern upon seeing Gabriel, Crowley wasn't sure.  
  
"Oh, there you are, Aziraphale." Gabriel said, his expression full of his customary cheer. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming." To Aziraphale and Crowley, no matter how they were spun, those words were ominous. "And I see you're still...consorting with that demon." Gabriel went on, his face losing a bit of its brightness.  
  
Crowley hissed, glaring at the archangel from under the dark lenses covering his eyes. "If you try anything-"  
  
"I have a job for you, Aziraphale." Gabriel said, motioning towards the floor, where a white case stood by his feet, cutting across Crowley's warning. Aziraphale blinked.  
  
"Ah...y..you do?" The angel stuttered, unsure. After all, this was the being that had attempted to kill him...well, Crowley, but the sentiment still stood.  
  
"Well, yes, it's about time you started getting back on the horse and helping out, all play and no work makes for a lazy angel." Gabriel said, as if lecturing an impudent child.  
  
Crowley winced at the overuse of human phrases. "I doubt that Aziraphale would want to do _anything_ for you." he growled.  
  
Aziraphale seemed to perk up at these words, nodding vigorously. "You tried to kill me." Aziraphale remarked bluntly. Usually, such a statement would make quite the argument against someone soliciting help from another, but Gabriel was the personification of obliviousness, and brushed it off with a shrug.  
  
"Yes, yes, but this is _important_, Aziraphale." Gabriel went on with a dismissive wave, ignoring the steadily growing elephant in the room in true Gabriel fashion.  
  
"_What_ is?" Crowley broke in icily. He was still positioned in front of Aziraphale, although the angel had discreetly grabbed a handful of his black jacket, ready to yank Crowley back should anything untoward begin.  
  
"This is." Gabriel answered, picking up the case by his feet and placing it on top of a stack of books on a low table, where it wobbled precariously. It wasn't a case, though. What Crowley and Aziraphale had mistaken for a case was a large cat carrier, complete with a roof of golden bars and tiny wings on the handle.  
  
The was a moment of silence as the angel and demon stared at. "You...own a cat?" Aziraphale hazarded just before the silence grew too long. Crowley shot him a confused look over his shoulder and through dark-tinted lenses, and Aziraphale could nearly hear his unspoken words._ "A cat, angel?"_  
  
"No, no." Gabriel hastened to say, a touch of distaste in his expression. "It's not a cat." A response which was not reassuring in the slightest. If it was not a cat, then what was it? Gabriel began to pry open the latches of the carrier, and Crowley backed a step or two away, pushing Aziraphale back as well with his body.   
  
A few more moments of fumbling, and Gabriel had released the latches and moved the bars aside. He reached into the carrier and lifted a strikingly small figure from inside, holding it firmly under its armpits. Its chubby legs kicked uselessly in the air, objecting to the awkward grip on its upper body.   
  
_"A baby!?"_ Crowley sputtered, shocked. He _had_ been expecting a cat, or at the very least, a weapon or feral animal. It _was_ a baby, from the crop of its short and messy black hair, to its feet, which were covered in tiny leather-patent shoes.   
  
It was difficult to tell if the baby was a boy or girl, as it is with most babies under the age of three. But there were other identifying marks that proved to be much more worrisome. The baby was dressed in a little black suit, and orange satin sash that was much too long for its small frame was hanging over one shoulder.  
  
Realization hit Crowley like a veritable ton of bricks. "Is that, is that? Is-" he babbled, unable to complete his sentence.  
  
The baby's pale eyes immediately went to Crowley, their tiny features scrunching up in disgust.  
  
"It's Beelze...bub." Gabriel said slowly, watching as Crowley and Aziraphale's faces twisted with astonishment. _"But how?"_ Crowley gasped out, reaching up and yanking off his glasses, as if doing so would return the miniature Beelzebub to normal size. Beelzebub was now glaring at him with a ferocity that unnatural for such a small child's face, and started kicking wildy.  
  
Gabriel sighed, and lowered Beelzebub onto the tabletop beside the wavering stack of books. Beelzebub shoved it with their plump little hands, causing an avalanche of books and the carrier to go tumbling off the table. Aziraphale winced as the thick tomes slapped on the floor, but Gabriel simply sidestepped the mess. "I don't know how it happened." the archangel began. "We were supposed to meet, but when I arrived, there was this child there instead."  
  
  
Crowley replaced his glasses, just in time to hide the incredulous look that had come into his eyes. "You were supposed to meet? Why?"  
  
"I don't have to answer to you." Gabriel replied, nonplussed, then proceeded to answer any way. "It was _business_, we both have a lot to clean up, especially after _your_ interference." the last four words were directed specifically at Aziraphale, who hemmed and hawed, and finally gave Gabriel a thin smile over Crowley's shoulder.   
  
"So, ah, Gabriel, am I to assume that you-"  
  
"Yes, I want you to look after little...er Beelzebub, until I am able to sort this matter out. In Beelzebub's current condition, I cannot return them to Hell." Here, a pointed look at Crowley was inserted, "I'm sure you understand why."  
  
Crowley shrugged. "Oh, yes, yes, yes. I'm sure it'll go well when you show up in Hell with a kid that looks just like Lord Beelzebub. Try explaining_ that_ to all those demons." Crowley knew, from harsh personal experience, just how impossible it was to explain anything out of the ordinary to beings who had no notion of, say, what a computer was.  
  
Gabriel only nodded, not understanding, or ignoring the layers of implications behind Crowley's mildly sarcastic words. Beelzebub, who had been sitting on space they'd vacated the tabletop, made an indignant noise, reaching out with a chubby hand to yank on the fringes of Gabriel's scarf, pointing one fat finger of the other hand at the carrier on the floor below.   
  
"Beelze..." Gabriel muttered, and bent down to pick up the fallen carrier, fishing around in it and withdrawing a large black fly. Beelzebub released his scarf and snatched the fly from his hands, squashing it against their chest. Gabriel huffed, running a hand over his face. "I have to go." he said, shutting the carrier and placing it back on the table.  
  
"Wait just a moment." Crowley objected, "How long are you going to leave-" here he waved vaguely at Beelzebub, "-them here?"  
  
"Until I can figure out what happened."   
  
"Ah, it seems, well, it seems that..._alterations_ have been made to Lord Beelzebub's corporeal form." Aziraphale broke in, relinquishing his hold on Crowley's jacket. Gabriel scoffed, half rolling his eyes at his fellow angel.  
  
"Obviously. Now, until I find out exactly why, they have to stay here. You and your demon compatriot insist on being _neutral,_ so this is the last place anyone will look for Beelzebub." Aziraphale and Crowley shared a look of their own.  
  
"Well, for old times sake, I suppose..." Aziraphale began dubiously.  
  
"Excellent!" Gabriel interrupted. "I'm sure your demon friend will be very beneficial to you if you have any problems with Beelzebub." Crowley opened his mouth, ready to make some scathing remark, but Aziraphale put a hand ever so lightly on Crowley's sleeve, and the demon shut his mouth with a snap. "I'll come by later to check up on them." Gabriel went on, ruffling Beelzebub's wild hair as he spoke. Beelzebub bared their little teeth at him, stubby arms still crushing the fly against their front.  
  
Gabriel looked down at them with a expression that could only be described as fond, much to both Aziraphale and Crowley's unease. Gabriel had no business looking at Beelzebub that way, unless...well, it was a train of thought that neither the angel or demon wanted to entertain, so they wrote it off to the siren call of baby fat and a snub nose. They'd raised a child after all, they new how alluring chubby cheeks and large eyes could be.   
  
  
Giving Beelzebub a final pat on the head, Gabriel turned, stepping over the fallen books and making his way to the door. This elicited a frantic noise from Beelzebub, who tossed away their fly that they had been so ardently clutching, and crawled to the edge of the table. It was a low coffee table, but Aziraphale still gasped in horror when Beelzebub _jumped_ off the edge, landing in a little black heap on the floor, before rising and toddling after Gabriel, their oversized sash dragging behind them.   
  
"Abe! 'Abe!" the child shrieked, their small hands outstretched, grasping for Gabriel's retreating form. Gabriel arrived at the door a whole seven steps in front of Beelzebub, opened it, and stepped out, firmly shutting the door. The displacement of air that followed sent Beelzebub's minuscule form toppling backwards onto their rump.  
  
Beezlebub balled their black-tipped fingers into fists and shoved them against their eyes, promptly bursting into tears.


	2. Shop

"I don't know what to do!" Crowley protested, looking in mild horror at the bawling infant by the door.  
  
"You raised Warlock, my dear." Aziraphale was quick to remind him.  
  
Crowley sputtered, shaking his head. "Warlock was a human child, angel! This, this is Lord Beelzebub!"  
  
"Surely there is _something_ you can do?" Aziraphale pressed, glancing over in concern as Beelzebub started to hyperventilate. "I don't like to see children in distress, my dear." Crowley scoffed.   
  
"They aren't a child. They are the Prince of Hell, angel."  
  
Aziraphale pouted, then gave the floor a little stamp with his foot. "Go comfort them, Crowley." he said firmly. Crowley hissed, managing to fit several nasty words in the escaping air, and pulled his glasses off, tossing them to the side, then leaned in close to Aziraphale, putting his lips very near to his ear.   
  
"Don't say I didn't warn you." Crowley said, then went off in Beelzebub's direction, his strut faltering as he neared them. He crouched down by them, wincing at the volume of the wails Beelzebub was emitting.  
  
  
"Um...Lord, Lord Beelzebub, can you please...um..calm down?" Crowley said, very, very politely. Beelzebub's teary blue eyes flashed at him, and they let out an earsplitting shriek that sent Crowley scuttling backwards.   
  
"IwantAbeIwantAbeIwantAbe!" Beelzebub screamed, thumping their little feet against the floor in time with their screams.  
  
"What are they saying, my dear?" Aziraphale inquired, backing up a pace or two. Crowley put his hands over his ears, shaking his head.  
  
"Ab..Abe...Abe." Crowley said. "I don't know what that means."  
  
"Abe?" Aziraphale repeated thoughtfully. "Abe..Abe...Gabe! Crowley, they want Gabriel!" Crowley swiveled around to stare at Azirpahle incredulously.  
  
"_What the fuck?_ Why do they want _Gabriel?_" Crowley shouted over Beelzebub's volume.  
  
"I have no idea, my dear." Aziraphale replied unhelpfully. "But do tell them that Gabriel said he'd be back, it might settle them." Shrugging, Crowley turned back to Beelzebub.  
  
"Gabriel said he would be back." Crowley informed them. This only served to send Beelzebub into a fit of apocalyptic distress.  
  
"IwantAbenow!" the child yelled. "NowNowNowNowNowNow!"  
  
"_Good Lord_." Aziraphale muttered, then raised his voice, directing it towards Beelzebub. "Ah, Gabriel left to take care of business, but he has given us his word that he will be back, you will just have to be patient, my dear...er Lord Beelzebub."  
  
"WANT 'ABE NOW!" the child exploded, then lapsed into hicupping sobs. Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other, then back at Beelzebub, who was whimpering despondently. "W...Want 'Abe." they sobbed. "W...Want 'Abe."   
  
  
"Crowley_._" Aziraphale said pleadingly. Crowley sighed and inched back towards Beelzebub, then tentatively reached out and picked them up. Beezlebub squalled, thrashing wildly in his hands.  
  
"Do something!" Crowley shouted towards Aziraphale, holding Beelzebub at arms length to avoid being struck in the face by a flailing foot. Aziraphale retrieved the pudgy fly from the floor by the table and walked over, holding it out in front of him like an offering.  
  
"Now, now." he began in a gentle voice, "I know that you're upset, but Gabriel did say that he'd be back, and you know angels never lie. Well, almost never lie." he concluded with an awkward little laugh. Beelzebub pulled their fists from their eyes, staring at Aziraphale suspiciously, their tiny body shaking with continued hiccups. Aziraphale carefully held the fly within reach of Beelzebub's hands, and after a moment's hesitation, Beelzebub snatched it, cramming their arms around it and burying their wet nose against it's back.  
  
The fly wriggled, not liking the sensation, but a ferocious squeeze from Beelzebub stilled it. Relieved, Aziraphale sighed, and met Crowley's eyes. "I suppose one of us should nip on down to the store for baby things." he began.  
  
"This is not a baby!" Crowley exclaimed, giving Beelzebub a slight shake to emphasize his words.  
  
"They certainly look like a baby." Azirphale said, pointedly glancing at Beelzebub, who had started to teethe on the fly's gossamer wing. Crowley sighed.  
  
"What do you want to do?" Get a crib and a binky and a walker for them? They're the prince of Hell, angel."  
  
"I believe we should get some blankets as well." Aziraphale said, staring at Crowley with a bit of defiance. Crowley groaned.   
  
"Fine, go get the stuff then, angel."  
  
"Oh, ah, I shall then." Aziraphale said, surprised at Crowley's sudden agreement. "Mind the store dear, I'll be back in a bit." He gave a wave in Beelzebub's direction and turned towards the door.  
  
Crowley looked down at Beelzebub, who was watching Aziraphale walk away with curious blue eyes."No, no. I'll go with you." Crowley said hurriedly, just before Aziraphale reached the door. "You're not leaving me alone with them."  
  
"But what if they start crying again, my dear?" Aziraphale asked. "It'll be sure to draw attention."  
  
"Pshaw." Crowley waved a hand. "Babies cry all the time in public." Beelzebub stopped chewing the fly's wing to look up at Crowley with a disgruntled expression. Crowley ignored them, and went to the door.  
  
The Bentley was parked just outside the shop, and Crowley went over to it. Aziraphale got into the car with a well-practiced ease, but Crowely hesitated. "Angel." he called to Aziraphale, "We're going to need a carseat."   
  
The carseat was black and shiny, with red cushioning, patterned with little dark flies. Aziraphale had wanted it to be tartan, but Crowley had issued an ultimatum, and Aziraphale had reluctantly redid the coloring. Beezelbub was strapped into their new possession, staring out the window at the moving blur outside as Crowley wore out the speedometer, much to Aziraphale's dismay.  
  
"Crowley, there is a child on board, perhaps you might slow down?"  
  
"They aren't a child, angel." Crowley said, more out of rote than anything as he wove between two lagging cars, eliciting a screech of delight from Beelzebub. Startled, Crowley looked back at them, and was met with a scowl.   
  
"_Crowley!_" Aziraphale whined, and Crowley returned his attention to the road and pulled to a screeching halt in front of some upper-scale store sometime later.  
  
"Alright, my Lord, it's time to shop." Crowley muttered as he got out and retrieved Beelzebub from the back. Beelzebub kicked him in the kidney with one little foot as he was lifting them from the carseat, and he dropped them onto the pavement, swearing under his breath.   
  
Beelzebub let out a high-pitched giggle, and Aziraphale tsked in disapproval. "That wasn't nice." he chided. Crowley regained his bearings and captured one of Beelzebub's little hands in his own, holding it gingerly.  
  
"Any chance we can drop them at the orphanage and tell Gabriel we lost them?" Crowley said hopefully to Aziraphale. Aziraphale looked vaguely scandalized.  
  
"Absolutely not! We agreed to care for them. Besides, orphanages don't exist anymore, my dear." Crowley hissed in irritation.  
  
"Come along then." he said to Beelzebub.   
  
  
  
  
"That is quite a realistic looking toy you have there." the shop attendant said, crouching down to be level with Beelzebub, who was holding their fly with one arm.  
  
Aziraphale and Crowley looked on warily. So far they had gathered quite the arsenal of products, a black crib of polished wood, blankets in various shades of orange and red, high chair, baby monitor, stroller, and various items that were normally purchased for babies, but would be quite useless to Beelzebub, such as a selection of rattles, a bright yellow pacifier, baby bottles, wet wipes and a changing table, ("After all, it will look odd if we don't buy things humans normally buy." Aziraphale had reasoned as he stocked the cart.) and had been heading to obtain more items, when they had been waylaid by an enamored employee.   
  
Beelzebub blinked, their large blue eyes staring placidly at the attendant. The attendant smiled. "Did your parents buy it for you?" she continued, glancing up at Crowley and Aziraphale.  
  
"Oh, uh...yes, custom made." Crowley said, ignoring Beelzebub's outraged squeak at the mention of 'parents'. "It's hard to find toy flies anywhere these days."  
  
"And such a cute little suit!" attendant crooned, " I suppose it's custom too?"   
  
"Um...we have an aunt...who sews." Crowley hazarded. He had wrestled Beelzebub's sash off of them after they had tripped over it, but Beezlebub was still in their suit, which had drawn curious looks from other shoppers. The attendant beamed.   
  
"Are they a boy or a girl?" she went on.  
  
"Neither." Crowley said.  
  
"Oh." the attendant said, pleasantly, if somewhat confusedly. "What's the child's name?" she went on.  
  
"Eh...Bee, we call them Bee, it's a nickname." a flustered Crowley answered.  
  
"How sweet!" the attendant said. She cooed at Beelzebub, and then stood up. "So, can I help you gentlemen with anything?"  
  
"Ah, might you direct us to the clothing section?" Aziraphale spoke up.  
  
"Certainly!" the attendant replied, and gave them directions, before going on her way with a cheery goodbye wave to Beelzebub.   
  
  
  
  
Surrounded by racks and racks of pink, frilly and minuscule outfits in the girls' section, Beelzebub began to sniffle, much to Aziraphale's horror. "Crowley, I don't think they like these." he said.   
  
"Here, mind the cart, angel." Crowley said, giving the handle of the cart a tap before scooping up Beelzebub and trotting into the boys' section. In a corner there was a selection of tiny suits, the ready-to-wear type of child's suit usually purchased for special occasions.   
  
Beelzebub gurgled happily as Crowely began to take black suits off the racks, slinging them over his arm. When Crowley had accrued a sufficient amount of suits, he grabbed a handful of neckties and returned to Aziraphale.  
  
"I think that's about it, angel." Crowley said, dumping the pile of dark clothing on top of a case of wooden blocks and a brightly colored ball that had not been there previously.  
  
Aziraphale nodded in agreement. "It's time we were getting back."  
  
The total ran into quadruple digits, but money was no object for either Crowley or Aziraphale. They left the store with their purchases, which they piled into the Bentley. Beelzebub was given a blanket that had miraculously gained printed flies, and was put back in their carseat.   
  
  
"That went better than expected." Aziraphale noted at they flew down the road at an obscene speed. "Lord Beelzebub is a well-behaved child." Crowley muttered something under his breath, swerving to avoid a careless pedestrian.  
  
"Oh, Crowley,_ look._" Aziraphale said a bit later, patting Crowley's arm. Crowley turned to glance into the backseat - Beelzebub had fallen asleep in the confines of the carseat, their little head pillowed on their shoulder, and the fly on their lap.  
  
Crowley looked back at Aziraphale, and shared a small smile with him.


	3. Crib

Crowley carried the sleeping Beelzebub into the bookshop, carseat and all, and set them down in a corner. All of Beelzebub's new belongings manifested in the bookshop with a snap of Crowley's fingers, scattering themselves over furniture and books.  
  
Crowley surveyed the new additions with a critical eye, then turned to Aziraphale. "I think I should take them to my place." he announced, indicating Beelzebub with a wave.  
  
"Why, my dear?" Aziraphale asked, looking vaguely confused.  
  
"I don't want to clutter things up more then...eh, usual. Besides, they're a demon, they could cause trouble for you."  
  
"You're a demon." Aziraphale quickly pointed out. "And they're a child, Crowley, what trouble could they cause me?"  
  
"Angel, for the last time -" Crowley began in an exasperated voice, "-they are the Prince of Hell. They'll do more than sit in a crib and shake a rattle."  
  
Aziraphale answered him with a pout, and Crowley scoffed. "Just stay here, dear." Aziraphale said a moment later. "It'll be best if we watch them together."  
  
"Yeah, alright." Crowley conceded.  
  
  
  
  
  
Later, Crowley and Aziraphale sat shoulder to shoulder on the floor, passing a wine bottle to each other and bickering over crib components. "You _would_ get the most complicated crib in the store." Aziraphale complained, scrutinizing the instruction manual.  
  
"S' not complicated, you just aren't reading that right." Crowley retorted, reaching over to snatch the manual from Aziraphale's hands. It_ was_ complicated, though. Crowley considered himself a fashionable person, but a practical person, not so much. And so the crib that he had picked, was naturally the most fashionable and the least practical one that could be found.  
  
Crowley continued to bicker with Aziraphale, and Beelzebub, who had been left to their own devices, was woken by their chattering. Beelzebub slipped out of their carseat and unfastened buckles, and toddled off into the depths of the bookshop, dragging their fly behind them by one leg.   
  
  
Sometime later, after realizing that a miracle as well as a screwdriver could be used to construct the crib, Crowley came looking for Beelzebub, and found them sitting in a dark corner, meditatively gnawing on the cover of a rare copy of _Plato's Republic._   
  
Muttering nasty words under his breath, Crowley pried the book out from between Beelzbub's teeth. Beelzebub squawked and attempted to crawl away, but Crowley grabbed them by the coattails and picked them up, carrying them over to the newly built crib and plopping them into it, tossing their fly in after them.  
  
Beelzebub caught the fly, and glared at Crowley through the bars of the crib. Crowley tugged his glasses down his nose and glared right back at them, until their unofficial contest was broken by Aziraphale's voice.  
  
"How do you suppose Lord Beelzebub was turned into a child, my dear?"  
  
Crowley shrugged, pushing his glasses back to rest on the bridge of his nose. "Beats me." the demon muttered, flinging himself down onto a nearby couch. Aziraphale made a face, one that Crowley chuckled at, and retreated to the kitchenette in the back room, leaving Crowley and the crib-bound Beelzebub alone together.  
  
"Take a nap, my Lord." Crowley suggested, stretching out on the couch, long limbs draping over the plump and threadbare cushions. Beelzebub retorted with a vaguely enraged babble, which Crowely ignored.  
  
  
Aziraphale emerged from the little kitchen a short time later, to find Crowley dozing off on the couch, and Beelzebub curled up in a corner of the crib, babbling incomprehensibly to their fly. Smiling ever so slightly, Aziraphale set his mug of cocoa and and platter of biscuits down on a miraculously empty shelf, and peered into the crib. "Oh, excuse me." Aziraphale began when Beelzebub's blue eyes flashed up to stare at him. "Does he, um, they have a name?" he went on, pointing down at the abnormally large fly in Beelzebub's hands.  
  
Beelzebub blinked. "Buzz." They said.  
  
"Buzz." Aziraphale repeated. "What a charming name! Do they eat?" he went on, taking a biscuit from the plate and offering it to Beelzebub through the bars of the crib. Beelzebub, equipped as they were with a child's curiosity, dropped their fly and took the biscuit, turning it over in their plump little hands, before promptly biting it into it. The biscuit crumbled beneath their teeth, and they squeaked as the flavor of the sugary, cinnamon endowed confection hit their tongue, causing their eyes to widen comically.   
  
A second passed, and Beelzebub crammed the rest of the biscuit into their mouth, chewing it while their tiny hands beckoned at Aziraphale for more. Aziraphale laughed, and passed them another cookie through the bars.   
  
  
  
  
Gabriel found them like that sometime later, when he appeared in the bookshop, Aziraphle sitting primly on the floor, delivering a steady stream of biscuits to Beelzebub, who was devouring them with apparent relish. "What...are you doing?" the archangel said, causing Aziraphale to jump in surprise, sending biscuits skittering everywhere. His reply was cut off by Beelzebub, who had shrieked in excitement upon seeing the newcomer.   
  
"'Abe!" the child called, surging up on their two chubby legs, stretching out their crumb-covered hands towards Gabriel, who looked at Aziraphale for direction.  
  
"They want you to pick them up." Aziraphale supplied helpfully. Gabriel opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by a now annoyed shriek of _'Abe!_ Sighing, Gabriel reached into the crib and lifted Beelzebub out, tucking the toddler against his side in the same manner as one might hold a football. It was then that Crowley chose to woke up.  
  
  
"You absolute buffoon, what _are_ you doing?" the demon demanded, sitting up and pushing his glasses up to rest in his sleep-mussed hair, glaring at Gabriel. "That's no way to hold a child." he went on, before Gabriel could speak.  
  
Almost guiltily, Gabriel shifted Beelzebub in his arms, cradling them to his chest. The child made a noise of content and nuzzled against him, wrapping their shorts arms as far around his neck as they could go, while Crowley looked on in astonishment. "Ugh." the demon sighed after a moment, shaking his head and letting his glasses drop back onto his nose, before addressing Aziraphale. "Angel, do we have any wine?"  
  
"1914 Cheval Blanc." Aziraphale responded promptly, masking his own shock slightly better than Crowley.  
  
"Splendid. Fill her up." Crowley said, materializing two pristine wineglasses with a snap of his fingers. A dusty bottle likewise appeared in Aziraphale's hands, and Crowley watched solemnly as the wine was uncorked and decanted. He took a glass and scooted to the far end of the couch, gulping down the wine as he did.   
  
Aziraphale held his own glass, polished fingernails tapping against its surface. "Ah, Gabriel, why don't you...sit down?" he asked the archangel suddenly, averting the onset of an awkward silence.  
  
A white office chair, upholstered in white leather, formed in a strategically clear spot, and Gabriel sat, Beelzebub's little black form draping across his chest. For a minute or so, all three parties, sans Beelzebub, stared at each other, until some haphazardly stacked packages caught Gabriel's attention. "What are _those?_" he asked.   
  
"Oh, ah, baby monitor." Aziraphale said, taking a discreet sip of his wine. Crowley had snagged the bottle, and Aziraphale shot him a warning glance. "Humans use it to watch their children if the have to leave the room." he went on.   
  
"I suppose that's convenient." Gabriel said in a very confused tone. Crowley snorted into his wine glance, causing both angels to look at him, whereupon he began to very busily drink his remaining wine.   
  
"We went out and got some things to make Lord Beelzebub's stay more comfortable." Aziraphale said. "Things that children need, a crib, blankets-"  
  
"Say, why did you have them in a cat carrier?" Crowley broke in, draining the dregs of his wine and immediately sloshing more into the empty glass, staring over the rims of his glasses at Gabriel.  
  
"That was a...carseat." Gabriel said haltingly. "Humans use them to transport their young in."  
  
"That," Crowley drawled matter-of-factly, "was a cat carrier."   
  
"What's the difference?" Gabriel said, an edge of defensiveness to his voice. Crowley erupted into a bout of ever so hysterical laughter, and Gabriel turned an accusing look on Aziraphale.  
  
"It's just a misunderstanding, nothing to fret over." Aziraphale hastened to say to Gabriel, shushing Crowley with a gesture. "Have you, ah, found a way to reverse Lord Beelzebub's...condition?"  
  
"No." Gabriel said, looking down at the little head nestled on his shoulder. Beelzebub was falling asleep, their eyes drooping closed under the fringe of their bangs, which seemed to alarm Gabriel. "What's happening?" Gabriel demanded.   
  
"They're sleeping, featherhead." Crowley said, going in for another refill of wine, only to have Aziraphale reach over and extract the bottle from his hands. "You ought to try it sometime." Crowley continued, put out.  
  
"I do not require sleep." Gabriel said pointedly.  
  
"But _they_ do." Crowley added. Beelzebub's eyes had fully closed, and their little fingers had curled around a handful of Gabriel's scarf. Gabriel looked down at them, his expression warming minutely. His hand came up to pat Beelzebub's dark head of hair gently, and Crowley and Aziraphale shared an expressive glance of horror with each other.  
  
"Something's going on, angel." Crowley whispered to his counterpart, gesturing to the tender moment that was playing out before their eyes.   
  
"Do you suppose, well, suppose that they are..._friends?_" Aziraphale said, whispering the word _friend_ as if it was a highly scandalous bit of gossip.  
  
"Friends? The archangel Gabriel and the Prince of Hell?" Crowley whispered back, sounding even more scandalized.  
  
"Oh, but-" Aziraphale began, but was cut off by a sharp "_Shhh" _ from Gabriel.  
  
"Aziraphale, be quiet. I don't want you to wake them up." Gabriel ordered. Barred from speaking, and aware that Crowely was giving him an impressive side-eye, Aziraphale opted to polish off his wine instead.  
  


  
  
  
  
  



	4. Cake

"It goes the other way."  
  
"It does_ not_."  
  
A derisive snort, then, "How would you know?"   
  
"Well, I would know much better than_ you._"  
  
"Gentlemen, please." Aziraphale murmured, shooting a wary glance at the sleeping Beelzebub. Sometime in between Beelzebub falling asleep and the present moment, Crowley had decided that it was a priority to put together Beelzebub's highchair, and had acted accordingly. Gabriel had involved himself in the proceedings from the safety of his office chair, much to Crowley's annoyance and Aziraphale's vexation.   
  
Fed up, Crowley snapped his fingers, and the scattered parts of the highchair melded together. "You could have done that a long time ago." Gabriel pointed out, and Crowley hissed a very rude word under his breath.   
  
"Some of us like to actually put some _consideration_ into our work, Mr. Archangel Sir." Crowley shot back snarkily, glowering at Gabriel.  
  
"You're a demon. Demons have no consideration in any matter." Gabriel said. Crowley was hissing audibly now, and Aziraphale cleared his throat.  
  
"My dear, could you fetch me some cake? I'm getting a bit peckish." Aziraphale said, and watched Crowley's expression soften.   
  
"Yes, fine, angel." Crowley said, and sauntered on into the kitchen, oblivious that Aziraphale's request had been a tactical move to separate him from Gabriel's vicinity. Gabriel watched the demon disappear into the kitchen, then looked back at Aziraphale.  
  
"I still can't believe you chose to live with a...demon, Aziraphale." Gabriel said.  
  
"Ah, h..he's my...best friend, or something of the sort. He's not that bad at all for a demon, we get along wonderfully...like you and Lord Beelzebub." Aziraphale blurted out. Gabriel skewered him with an uncharacteristically sharp look.  
  
"Me and Lord Beelzebub?" the archangel repeated.  
  
"Oh, I couldn't help but notice how...familiar you two seemed with each other, and Lord Beelzebub does seem rather strongly...er, attached to you." Aziraphale said cautiously.  
  
"Children are sentimental." Gabriel said tersely. Beelzebub stirred restlessly, and Gabriel immediately moved them to a more comfortable spot on his chest as he spoke, patting their back gently to soothe them.  
  
"Yes...sentimental." Aziraphale said, layering his voice with about fifty different tones of ironic inflection, all of which passed Gabriel by. Crowley came out of the kitchen, bearing a china plate laden with a generous slice of impeccably iced cake, and a silver fork, and delivered it to Aziraphale, much to Gabriel's disgust.  
  
"I don't think I'll ever understand why you chose to consume gross matt-"  
  
"Because he likes it." Crowley snapped, picking up the fork and stabbing it into the cake. "Eat, angel." he growled to Aziraphale. Aziraphale complied, taking the fork and carefully cutting off a chunk of cake and eating it, watching Gabriel warily as he did so. Crowley, on the other hand, was staring down the archangel in a challenging manner.  
  
"I would like a glass of milk as well, dear." Aziraphale said to Crowley, eager to remove the demon from the metaphorical line of fire. Crowley went traipsing off to the kitchen again, and Aziraphale continued to work on his cake.  
  
Gabriel opened his mouth to speak, but Beelzebub stirred again, this time opening their eyes and staring languidly around the room. Beelzebub's curious eyes zeroed in Aziraphale, and then on the plate of cake, and they sat up, yawning as the reached their hands out towards Aziraphale. "Give!" they demanded.  
  
"What do you want, Beelze?" Gabriel quickly said, shooting Aziraphale a questioning look.   
  
"Ah...Crowley, bring another slice of cake for Lord Beelzebub, would you, dear?" Aziraphale called into the kitchen, before giving Gabriel his attention. "They want to eat cake." he said.   
  
"They do?" Gabriel echoed, sounding appalled, looking down at Beelzebub with a shocked expression.  
  
"Oh, come now." Aziraphale tsked. "It's not like it's holy water or something." Gabriel's expression showed that he thought much to the contrary. Crowley stepped out of the kitchen, carrying a glass of milk and another plate of cake. The milk he passed to Aziraphale, and the cake he set down on the tray of the high chair.   
  
"Here, bring them over here." Crowley said to Gabriel, patting the highchair. Gabriel stood up, and carried Beelzebub over, sliding them feet first onto the highchair's seat under Crowley's direction.  
  
Beelzebub wiggled happily, and reached for the cake with their chubby hands, grabbing two fistfuls of icing and bready confection, and stuffing it into their mouth while Gabriel looked on, askance.  
  
"It'll...soil you. How can you put that...stuff into your body?" Gabriel asked the child, with a sort of awed horror. Beelzebub looked up at him with narrowed eyes, their cheeks bulging with cake. A glob of icing spattered onto the front of Gabriel's pristine lavender suit the next moment. Gabriel and Aziraphale both gasped in tandem, sporting near identical expressions of shock.  
  
Crowley howled with laughter, banging the flat of his palm against the back of the highchair's seat in lieu of Beelzebub's back, before dissolving into a heap of pointy limbs on the floor.   
  
"Lord Beelzebub, that was not nice!" Aziraphale exclaimed, shooting a worried glance at Gabriel. The icing slid off Gabriel's suit, leaving a sticky trail, and landed with a _plop_ onto Gabriel's shoes. Gabriel exhaled slowly, and waved a hand. The icing vanished without a trace.  
  
"Beelzebub, that was _unnecessary_." the archangel began, then ducked as another portion of icing came sailing through the air at him. "For God's sake, Beelze!" Gabriel said, and scuttled out of the line of fire, taking refuge behind a bookcase. Crowley was choking with laughter at this point, and was near the point of convulsing.   
  
Aziraphale shook his head at both the demon and the archangel, letting out an affected sigh and looking at Beelzebub, who was merrily eating the cake that was not smothered on their clothes or hands. A strangled wheeze of laughter escaped Crowley's lips, causing Aziraphale to cringe.   
  
"Crowley, Crowley, stop that at once, my dear." Aziraphale said sharply. Crowley made a noise that sounded vaguely like something a put out cat would make, and lapsed into a fit of silent chuckles.  
  
Satisfied for the moment, Aziraphale set down his plate and cup, and went into the kitchen. An orange plastic sippy cup dotted with cartoon flies manifested on the counter, and Aziraphale filled it with a generous helping of milk, and took it back over to Beelzebub, who pulled the sippy cup from his hands and began to gulp down its contents.  
  
Crowley stopped laughing suddenly. "Angel, they're too young for milk!" he said while he scrambled to his feet.  
  
"Nonsense, my dear." Aziraphale said. "Warlock began drinking milk at this age."  
  
"Only because Harriet insisted." Crowley groused.  
  
"And I'm insisting." Aziraphale shot back. "Let them have the milk, Crowley. Cake goes splendidly with milk, you know that."  
  
Crowley huffed. "Fine, fine, angel." He looked over at Gabriel, and snorted. "Get over here, wingman." Crowley said, waving the archangel over. "I'm not letting you bail over a bit of cake."   
  
"That was disgusting." Gabriel said.  
  
"No, it's a normal thing." Crowlely objected. "Kids throw things, and I've had much worse things than cake thrown at me."  
  
"How did you tolerate it?" Gabriel muttered, brushing at the front of his suit. Crowley shrugged.  
  
"Well, I'm not a stick-up-the-arse archangel, so I had that going for me." the demon said.  
  
Beelzebub giggled at Crowley's words, thumping their now empty sippy cup against the highchair's tray in delight. "Oh, be quiet." Gabriel said. Beelzebub merely giggled louder. Gabriel sighed, casting a look upwards. "I have to be going." he said.   
  
Beelzebub's demeanor instantly changed. "No! No! No!" the child screamed, whacking the sippy cup angrily against the tray with every successive _"No!"_  
  
"Beelze, I have to go." Gabriel said, crouching a little to make eye contact with the child. Beelzebub exploded.  
  
"NO!" they roared. "'Abe stay! 'Abe stay! 'Abe stay! Staystaystaystaystay!"  
  
"I can't stay." Gabriel went on patiently. "I have important business in Heaven-"  
  
"No Heaven! Heaven stupid!" Beelzebub declared vehemently. Gabriel wagged his finger sternly.  
  
"That type of thing is why you fell, Beelze." he said. The sippy cup dropped from Beelzebub's hand, and they stared at Gabriel for a few moments with wide eyes, before bursting into tears.   
  
"You _asshole!_" Crowley snapped, darting forward and picking Beelzebub up, holding the child against him and murmuring soothing inflections. Gabriel had the decency to immediately look somewhat ashamed.  
  
"Beelze..." he began, taking a step towards them and Crowley, "I didn't mean-" Beelzebub sobbed loudly and turned away, burying their head against Crowley's shoulder.  
  
"Get _out_ of here." Crowley hissed at Gabriel. Aziraphale came over, hovering at Crowley's shoulder and crooning soft things to comfort Beelzebub. Gabriel watched for a moment, before disappearing in shimmer of violet light. "_Prick._" Crowley growled into the empty air after him.   
  
  



	5. Peek

Beelzebub was curled up in their crib, a sniffling little ball. Crowley, on the other hand, was pacing the bookshop, shouting at nothing in particular. "Just who does that feathered ass think he _is!_ Does he have any idea what he _said?_ And_ you_ said that they were supposed to be _friends,_ angel." this last part was directed at Azirapahle, who looked up at Crowley with an expression of affront.  
  
"I said nothing of the sort, my dear." he protested. "Gabriel can be a bit...thoughtless, you know."  
  
"This goes beyond thoughtless, angel." Crowley said. "He was being a-" Aziraphale cleared his throat, cutting Crowley off with a pointed gesture at the whimpering child in the crib beside him.  
  
"I'm sure he didn't intend to hurt Lord Beelzebub." Aziraphale tried to reason.  
  
"Well, he did!" Crowley declared, waving a hand at the crib. "You just don't go around saying things like that!"  
  
"I know, I know, my dear." Aziraphale soothed. "I will admit, Gabriel's remark was very...heartless, and entirely out of line." he peered down into the crib, and Beelzebub's sad blue eyes stared back at him. "But we can't waste our thoughts on Gabriel, we should try to get Lord Beelzebub back into a good mood." Aziraphale continued.  
  
Crowley sighed. "And how exactly do you propose we do that, angel?" he inquired.  
  
"Well, we have to think of _something_." Aziraphale insisted. "I can't stand to see them in distress, dear." he added, giving Crowley a pleading look from under his eyelashes.  
  
"Ehhh..." Crowley began immediately, "They seem to like food, what if we go...get them something special to eat?"  
  
Aziraphale looked delighted at the suggestion. "Capital idea!" he praised. "Ice cream, children love ice cream, let's go get them some."  
  
"Yes, angel." Crowley replied dutifully, and picked up Beelzebub's carseat.

  


* * *

  
  
  
Beelzebub sat quietly in the backseat, cradling their fly and staring down at their tiny shoes. Aziraphale had made a few attempts during the course of the ride to cheer them up, but nothing had worked.  
  
Crowley pulled to a stop in front of a quaint little ice cream parlour, one of Aziraphale's favorites, in fact, and looked into the backseat. "We're here, my Lord." he said. Beelzebub didn't respond, only glumly fidgeted with the wing of their fly.   
  
Crowley threw a vaguely worried look at Aziraphale, then got out of the Bentley, and extracted Beelzebub as well. He propped them up on one bony hip, rearranging their hair to lie flat with a snap of his fingers. "Look, um...we're going to go get ice cream, kids aren't supposed to have ice cream before dinner, so you'll be doing a bad deed, isn't that fun?" Crowley coaxed.  
  
Beelzebub shook their head slowly, and began to sniffle. "Oh, for Heaven's sake..." Crowley muttered.  
  
"Let's just go in, maybe they'll be happier inside." suggested Aziraphale, who had ulterior motives concerning the ice cream parlour besides improving Beelzebub's mood. The three entered the establishment, and took a table beside a window. Crowley sat Beelzebub down on a booster seat that had not been there previously, and the child remained sitting there, crying quietly, immune to all of Crowley's attempts at comfort, until a fly landed on the outside of the window, catching their attention.  
  
The child reached a fat finger out and tapped the glass, giggling suddenly as the fly skittered along the glass in response. Another fly landed a few inches away, and Beelzebub giggled again, tapping at it too.  
  
Crowley shot a relived look at Aziraphale, who smiled back. "What flavor of ice cream do you want, dear?" Aziraphle said.  
  
"Malt sundae, and get a black cherry for them." Crowley said. Aziraphale nodded, and went off, returning a short time later with a tray of ice cream dishes. Beelzebub stared dubiously at the bowl of black cherry when it was set in front of them, and Aziraphale laughed, offering a spoon to them.  
  
"Try it, my dear." he said. "It's good." Beelzebub took the utensil, and slowly carved a spoonful of the dark pink ice cream out of the bowl and ate it, their eyes widening at its coldness. "Do you like it?" Aziraphale asked.  
  
The child made a pleased noise, and set to enthusiastically eating. In much the same way, Aziraphale dug into his towering banana split, leaving Crowley to snort in amusement and begin working on his much more modest malt sundae.  
  
Aziraphale was halfway through his split, and Beelzebub was digging a chunk of frozen cherry out of a mound a ice cream, when the air beside the table shimmered, and a figure materialized out of thin air.  
  
"Gabriel!" Aziraphale exclaimed. The archangel ignored him and Crowley, who had began to scowl, and leaned across the table towards Beelzebub. The child froze, staring at him with a wary expression.  
  
"Beelze, look..." he cleared his throat, taking a breath. "I'm...I shouldn't have said that." Although the words sounded forced, they were still sincere.  
  
But Crowley scoffed. "Do you want deep-fried wings for lunch, my Lord?" he said to Beelzebub, brandishing his spoon threateningly at Gabriel at the same time. "Because that can be _arranged._"  
  
Gabriel leveled an exasperated glare at him. "Aziraphale, control your demon." he ordered.   
  
_"Gabriel."_ Aziraphale chided gently, pushing his bowl of ice cream and various toppings to a safe distance away. "I believe that Crowley is concerned on, ah...Lord Beelzebub's behalf."  
  
Gabriel let out a bark of laughter. "Why would he be?" the archangel asked, sounding somewhat amused.  
  
"You insulted Lord Beelzebub." Crowley spoke up icily. "Humans call it a _faux pas_. A thing you _don't speak of_ in polite company, if you will."  
  
"I admitted that." Gabriel ground out.  
  
"But you haven't apologized." Crowley retorted.  
  
Gabriel huffed, looking back at Beelzebub. "I'm...sorry." he said slowly. Beelzebub blinked, then let out a shrill babble, ending it by banging their spoon against the rim of their bowl.  
  
Mystified, Gabriel looked at Crowley. "Translation?" he demanded.  
  
Crowley grinned, showing teeth that suddenly looked much too sharp. "They say you are a pompous jackass, and they never want to see your ugly face ever agai-"  
  
"Crowley!" Aziraphale broke in, shaking his head disapprovingly.  
  
Crowley groaned. "They said that they will overlook your misstep this once, but don't ever let it happen again." he amended. Gabriel smiled thinly and looked back to Beelzebub, who flashed their blue eyes at him, and returned to demolishing their ice cream. Gabriel reached over and pinched the child's cheek, his smile growing as they squealed in anger.  
  
"You're a softie, Beelze." he said, and then exclaimed loudly in pain as Beelzebub bit down on his hand with their tiny teeth. Crowley chortled, only to be silenced when Aziraphale leaned across the table and shoved a heaping spoonful of banana split into his mouth.  
  
"Thank you, Aziraphale." Gabriel said without missing a beat. Crowley responded with a very rude hand gesture that Beelzebub attempted to copy, much to Aziraphale's horror.  
  
"Oh, no, no, no, no! You must never do that, it's _rude._" Aziraphale hastened to tell them. A gleeful look came over Beelzebub's face as they continued to try to form the symbol with their chubby fingers. _"Lord Beelzebub."_ Aziraphale chastised.  
  
Gabriel reached over and took Beelzebub's tiny hand, and so preventing them from forming any gestures. Beelzebub gave him a dark look that was out of place on their childish face, and scraped the remainder of their ice cream out of its bowl with their other hand.  
  
Aziraphale hastily tucked away the rest of his dish, and looked at Crowley, who had long since consumed his own treat, and was now settling the bill. "Let's go, angel." Crowley said, standing and picking up Beelzebub. Gabriel went with them as they headed towards the door, once they were outside, Crowley secured Beelzebub within the Bentley, and then turned to the archangel.  
  
"Let me make one thing clear." the demon began. "If you ever make them cry again, I will serve you up for Hell's next potluck."  
  
"You wouldn't be able to find a roasting pan big enough." Aziraphale added casually as he got into the Bentley, causing Crowley to sputter, half in surprise, half in amusement.  
  
_"Noted."_ Gabriel snapped.  
  
"Good. Now go on, fly off and stop bothering us." Crowley said, waving a hand dismissively. But Gabriel stayed right where he was, and Crowley cocked a questioning eyebrow at him. "You have something to add?"  
  
Gabriel nodded, looking over Crowley's shoulder and through the back window of the Bentley at Beelzebub, who was making their fly dance a jig on the headrest of Aziraphale's seat.   
  
"I received news...from down below." Gabriel said, his voice dropping into something he probably fancied as conspiratorial. "Hell has noticed Beelzebub's absence, and they might come looking for them here, when they realize that they are nowhere to be found in Hell."  
  
Crowley pondered this for a moment, then shrugged. "We'll be careful." he said, and swaggered off and around to the driver's side of the Bentley. The Bentley peeled away with a roar of its engine, and Gabriel watched it go, waving at the little pair of blue eyes and the nose that were peeking back at him through the rear window. 


	6. Ritz

  
Just so we're clear on identities, this chapter features a character named Eric. Eric is **not** an OC, he is the disposable demon, aka Eric. (his canon name) See picture below:  


* * *

Beelzebub was yawning when they reached the bookshop, and promptly fell asleep as soon as Crowley placed them in their crib. Aziraphale puttered off to the kitchen for a nip of brandy to wash down his ice cream, leaving Crowley to lean against the crib, morosely contemplating the child within. On principle, Crowley cared very little for what Gabriel had to say, but the archangel's parting words were worth taking note of.  
  
If the denizens of Hell came to Earth in search of their Prince, and found them sheltering with him and Aziraphale, well, things could get _messy._ The demons would want Beelzebub back, of course, and Crowley wasn't about to hand a _child_ over into their hands, the fact that said child was the Prince of Hell nonwithstanding.  
  
Also, there was the possibility that some bold upstart might try to take advantage of Beelzebub's condition, and use it to their favor. Demons were loyal to a fault, but there were always some who would jump at the chance to get their grimy hands on the throne of Hell...Crowley sighed, pulling off his glasses and rubbing at his eyes.  
  
For heaven's sake. Crowely had never had this much to worry about when raising Warlock - and he had thought that Warlock was the bloody _Antichrist_.  
  
"Are you alright over there, my dear?" Aziraphale called, emerging from the kitchen.   
  
"Ngk." Crowley responded, walking backwards a few steps and collapsing onto a couch. Aziraphale laughed softly and came over, settling himself on the part of the couch that was not occupied by Crowley's frame. Crowley put his feet on Aziraphale's lap and stared up at the ceiling, watching dust motes swirl in the air above him.  
  
"So, y'know, Gabriel said that..." Crowley began.   
  
"Said what, dear?" Aziraphale inquired.   
  
Crowley shifted uneasily. "That demons may come looking for Lord Beelzebub." he finished.  
  
"Oh." Aziraphale patted Crowley's ankle. "I'm sure Gabriel will find a...cure before that." Aziraphale reasoned.   
  
"Hope so." Crowley muttered, unassured. Aziraphale made a noise of amusement, and sank backwards into the couch cushions.  
  
"Besides, they'd never come looking for them _here._" Aziraphale went on. "Why would they?"  
  
"Oh, you're right, I suppose." Crowley conceded. Inwardly, he had his own reservations, but he did not want to worry Aziraphale. His angel worried much more than was good for him. Crowley lapsed into silence, counting the dust motes and relishing the feel of Aziraphale's hand, which had settled on his ankle. The two sat that way for sometime, and Crowley had began to doze off, when a high-pitched peep of distress from Aziraphale jolted him back into waking.   
  
"...Angel?" he slurred sleepily.  
  
"Oh, I forgot, I forgot." the angel was saying. "We have a reservation at the Ritz this evening!"  
  
Crowley sat upright, blinking. "We do?-Oh, we _do._" he said. "We'll have to cancel then." he said.   
  
"But _Crowley._" Aziraphale pouted.  
  
_"Angel."_ Crowley mimicked. "We can't leave Beelzebub here alone, and the Ritz doesn't take children."  
  
"I'm sure that an exception could be made."  
  
"Pfft. You really want to bring a child along on a dinner at a restaurant like that? Imagine the mess they'll make, angel, food everywhere, broken wine glasses, a nice red spilled on the carpet..."  
  
"Oh, fine." Aziraphale said, rather grumpily. "But we can't leave them alone here."  
  
"We'll have to find a babysitter." Crowley said.  
  
"Who? It's not like we can just ask a human to look after Lord Beelzebub, dear." Aziraphale protested. And he was right. While Beelzebub tolerated Aziraphale and Crowley's care, they would make a human's life a living hell, if they were left alone with one.  
  
"I'll think of something." Crowely said. Aziraphale pinched Crowley's calf through the fabric of his pants.  
  
"You'd better _think of something_ soon." he said prissily. "Our reservation is only a half hour away." Crowley waved him off and stood up.   
  
"I'll look around, angel, maybe we can-." he began, only to stop and take a long sniff of the air, much to Aziraphale's surprise.  
  
"My dear?" said the angel.

As it turned out, Crowley didn't have far to look. And also, Gabriel's words had come true much sooner than the archangel, or Crowley had expected them too.

* * *

  
  
  
Eric had no idea how he had ended up on this assignment - well, that was _untrue._ It had been threat of imminent discorporation by Duke Hastur that had forced the young demon topside. His Disgrace, Duke Hastur, and Lord Dagon had been in charge since the Prince had disappeared without a trace, and after a day or so of slogging through the odious task of ruling Hell in Lord Beelzebub's stead, they decided to send out search parties.  
  
Eric, who had been on the verge of getting discorporated for the fifth time that day for no concrete reason, volunteered to aid the search, and had jumped the up elevator so fast he had left a breeze behind. Now he was wandering the streets of Soho, London, looking around for any trace of his leader.   
  
He pulled his tablet out and messed around with its gps until he had a readable map of the area. While Duke Hastur and the rest of Hell's chain of command hadn't the slightest notion in Hell as to the inner workings of technology, Eric had quite the knack for it, and could work his way around a touch screen even better than today's children. But technological savvy had nothing on the inner workings of coincidence, which was how Eric unknowingly found himself walking by Aziraphale's bookshop, just in time for Crowley to sniff him out. 

* * *

  
  
  
"There's a demon around, I mean, another one." Crowley announced grimly.  
  
"Oh, dear." Aziraphale exclaimed.   
  
"Stay with the kid, I'll check it out." Crowley said, snapping his glasses back into place, and affecting a self-assured swagger to the front door, while Aziraphale positioned himself in front of Beelzebub's cradle.  
  
One moment Eric was standing on the pavement outside, and the next moment he was standing inside the bookshop, having been yanked inside by Crowley. "What are you doing here?" Crowley demanded, shutting the door and pulling down his glasses enough to expose a yellow glower. He recognized this demon, he'd been the one to deliver the hellfire to Heaven, and that _did_ raise certain red flags in Crowley's mind.   
  
Eric stuttered. It was Crowley, the famed renegade. He hadn't been present for Crowley's trial, but he'd heard stories - he'd been stupid enough to ask about it while in Duke Hastur's presence, and discorporated on the spot. In any case, he'd better play it cool, Crowley's weapon of choice was holy water, which he possessed an immunity to, and he had been responsible for the death of Duke Ligur, which had unfortunately deprived Hastur of whatever leniency he might have possessed.   
  
"I..I'm here...to...um...search for Lord Beelzebub." Eric blurted out, remembering too late that it was probably a_ bad thing_ to have let his purpose slip to a branded traitor. But Crowley only grinned, displaying teeth that were a hint off kilter as far as sharpness went.  
  
  
Although he was outwardly cool, Crowley's mind was buzzing at miles a minute. He was in fact wondering how long it would take Aziraphale to bless some water, and if he had the time to use the water, before the other demon went running for the hills or fought back. Eric, who had no idea that the object of his search was approximately ten or so feet away, was beginning to get nervous.   
  
"Look, it doesn't have anything to do with you. You're cool. But I really have to get looking, so I'm going to go." Eric said, edging back towards the door.  
  
Crowley pushed his glasses back up his nose, blinking in surprise. So the other demon _didn't_ know that Beelzebub was here? "Not so fast, kid." he said. "You want Lord Beelzebub? They're here."   
  
"Crowley!" Aziraphale squawked, drawing Eric's attention. Oh boy. It was an angel, _the angel,_ the one he had delivered hellfire to heaven for.   
  
"Don't worry, angel, I just found our babysitter." Crowley said, waving at Eric. Now thoroughly confused and terrified, but still determined to act in the interests of self-preservation _and_ complete his mission, Eric paused.   
  
"You have Lord Beelzebub?" he asked.  
  
"Mmhm." Crowley said, jabbing at finger at the crib. "They're right in here."  
  
It could be a trick, and Eric was more than certain that it was, but if the boss was in there...well, Eric had no choice but to walk over, keeping a wary eye on Crowley all the while, and peek into the crib.  
  
"What the..." Eric muttered under his breath, looking down at the tiny heap of black clothes and messy hair curled up in the crib. "How...how did the boss...er, Lord Beelzebub become a, a kid?"  
  
"I've been asking the same question." Aziraphale interjected cheerfully, and Eric took a few cautious steps away. This was the angel who-could-not-die, at least according to the rumors. Which meant that Eric had managed to get himself trapped with two _notorious traitors,_ but neither of them had tried to discorporate him yet, which put them directly above Hastur in Eric's tolerance level.  
  
"Look kid, I have a problem." Crowley began, oblivious to Eric's inner remunerations. "I have a dinner I need to get to, and I need someone to be here to watch Lord Beelzebub."   
  
"Okay..." Eric said, absolutely unsure how to respond. Crowley tapped his watch.

"I need to go now." he said. "So, congratulations, you got the job."  
  
"Wha-?" Eric stammered.  
  
"But, dear," Aziraphale spoke up. "He might take Lord Beelzebub as soon as we leave. Or tell the other demons to come, they may have been staking us out, you know." he added in a worried tone.  
  
"He didn't even know that Beelzebub was here, so the other demons don't either, angel." Crowley was quick to reassure him.   
  
"But we can't trust him!" Aziraphale said. "He'll contact Hell as soon as we leave." Well, that was a valid point, but Crowley hardly had any time to develop a counter-measure. Gabriel had appeared by the crib, and was frowning over at him.   
  
"I do wish you'd stop popping in and out like that, Gabriel." Crowley heard Aziraphale murmur, his voice sounding vaguely annoyed.  
  
"There was demonic activity located near here." Gabriel said briskly, ignoring Aziraphale's complaint. "I came to check on Beelzebub-" Gabriel's words faded off as he noticed Eric, who stared back at him in trepidation.   
  
"I see _one_ has managed to_ infiltrate._" Gabriel said.  
  
"Oh, not at all." Crowley said with forced politeness, shooting a glance at Eric. "That one is our babysitter. A demon for a demon, so to speak, but you're welcome to stay and help out if you like."   
  
So saying, he reached over and grabbed at Aziraphale's sleeve, tugging the him away from the crib and out the door that opened with a snap of his fingers, leaving the _other_ angel and demon alone in the room with the peacefully sleeping Beelzebub. 


End file.
